


Tell Me How The World Looks

by midnightsvoid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Hospitalized Castiel (Supernatural), Hospitals, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 01:46:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14802011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightsvoid/pseuds/midnightsvoid
Summary: In an attempt to save a child, Dean Winchester ends up in the hospital, where he befriends another patient called Castiel, who shows him how to focus on the little wonders of life.





	Tell Me How The World Looks

 

“Someday you’re going to get yourself killed _.”_ Sam says through the phone. It’s loud enough for the nurse holding the phone to flinch.

Dean gives her an apologetic look, and says into the phone. “Yeah Sam got it the first five times you said that, now stop yelling”

Sam mutters something incoherent, before speaking louder. “I’m taking the first flight tomorrow and I’ll tell you another hundred times how you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Alright, one, it’s not stupid saving a kid.” He says, because its true and also because he can’t explain the whole situation to Sam in front of other people, “and two, you don’t need to come. It’s just some minor fractures and I’ll be good as new.”

“Dean.” Sam says exasperated and Dean cuts him off, glancing at the nurse tapping her wrist.

“I’m serious Sammy, just focus on your studies okay. I’ll be out of here in no time and then you’ll be complaining about how I’m not getting out of your hair.”

He knows Sam’s not done berating him so he quickly finishes. “Alright, time’s run out. I’ll talk to you later.”

He hears a huff, before Sam’s says goodbye and the call ends.

The nurse keeps the phone on the table before checking Dean’s chart. “You do realize you can’t move from here for a month at least.”

Dean tries to look at her from his position, but the nurse ‘ _tuts'_.

“I know, I know.” He says straightening, then at the previous statement. “It’s just to keep him from not coming here.” 

She hums, turning to him. “Well, Mr. Winchester.” She files the reports. “You’re free for the day.”

“You mean free to just lie like the dead all day.” He grumbles and the nurse gives him a smile before leaving.

 

“You’re new here.” a voice says from in front of Dean.

The pale ceiling hasn’t changed since the last nap Dean woke up from and his back aches from lying too long. He tries to see the person who spoke but the collar restricts his movement, so he stops his futile attempt.

Assuming the guy’s talking to him, (since he hasn’t heard anyone else in the room) he speaks. “Yeah, got here yesterday.”

Dean hears the guy shuffle. “Welcome to St. James.” He says, his voice croaky from disuse. His words cause Dean to smile wryly.

He tries to joke “I have to say, I’ve been welcomed better.”

“I’d apologies but since I am, like you, constrained. It’s the best I can do.”

Dean smiles at that. “In that case, thanks man.”

The room’s quiet after that. The silence, broken only by the muffled voices of the nurse and doctors in the corridor. Normally he revels in the silence but two days in bed, with no one to talk to, no music to listen to and no other activity besides watching the ceiling is making him restless.

“So what’s your name?” he asks.

“I’m Castiel.” The reply comes quick and Dean wonders if the guy’s been here alone in here, before he showed up. The room only has two beds and Dean hasn’t heard anyone else since morning apart from his nurse.

“Castiel.” Dean says, testing it. “I’m Dean.”

“Hello Dean.” He says and Dean snorts.

“So how’d you get stuck in this place?” Hoping he doesn’t sound crass.

“Pulmonary edema” Castiel answers without a delay. “I nearly drowned earlier this year, and my next stop was this ‘dump’, as you put it.”

“I’m sorry man.” Dean says because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“No need to apologies. It is how it is, I suppose.” And Dean can relate with that because he’s had enough experiences when he’d had to just accept the fact that that’s how his life is going to be. Where growing up without his mother, tops the charts.

“Did you really jump in front of a car to save a child’s life?” Castiel asks him and the wonder in his voice makes Dean squirm because he’s already had enough people commenting about how Dean’s a hero.

“Yeah well, someone had to.” He says nonchalantly, because that’s his job. And while this particular save might not be a run-of-the-mill one, it was still saving someone’s life.

The door opens with a silent squeak, and there’s a series of footsteps followed by a cheery “Hello, Mr. Novak.”

The voice sounds too young, probably a recent graduate, Dean assesses.

“Hello, Aiden. How are you?” Castiel replies and Dean hears the smile in his voice.

 “I’m good. How are you feeling today? Any sort of pain?” Aiden asks, wheeling what Dean assumes to be a drip-stand by the sound.

“Today has been pleasant.” Castiel gauges, “I didn’t have any headaches, or any problem in breathing.”

“That’s good, that’s very good.” Aiden tells him, “Let’s get you seated up shall we?”

It’s roughly five minutes in which the nurse helps him sit up followed by some instructions which by the sound of Castiel’s reply has been repeated way to many times for his liking.

“I’m just following procedure Mr. Novak.” But his voice is soft, and Dean is left wondering how much all the people have gotten to know Castiel over here.

 

“So Castiel—” Dean says after Aiden is gone.

“You can call me Cas,” he interrupts.

“Alright _Cas_ , what do you do here? I’ve been here a day and I’m already bored.”

“Not much,” the man admits, before sighing “I read a book to pass the time—“

“Pshaw” Dean makes a sound of discomfort.

“Let me guess, you’re one of those people who prefer to watch movies instead of reading a book.” Cas comments dryly.

Dean frowns thoughtfully, “I guess, but then again I haven’t had the chance to read a good book in a long time.”

“Well you have the chance now.” And Dean just knows Cas is smirking right now, whatever his smirk looks like.

“Okay smartass, what else can I do here?”

“Considering you’re lying on the bed with no movement, I’ll say nothing but talk.”

“You’re not going to stop, are you?” he says, but there’s a smile on his face nevertheless.

“You make it so easy.” Cas huffs a laugh and Dean thinks it’s a pretty nice thing to hear.

“I’ll bite,” Dean says after a while. “Tell me about yourself.”

Cas considers for a moment before he tells Dean about his life. About his job, he’s Mathematics teacher and despite the loathing of many towards the subject, he enjoys teaching it.

 _‘There’s a sense of satisfaction at solving problems and getting the required answer, Dean’_ he tells him and Dean’s lip stretch despite himself.

Other than that Cas likes to read books, classic if possible to which Dean says _, 'If you’re reading books it should at least be science-fiction._

He also likes to watch animated movies which surprise Dean into asking. _‘How old are you Cas?’_

_‘I’m twenty-six and there’s no shame in watching Disney.’_

_‘Of course not’,_ Dean grins _. ‘You oldie.’_

_‘And how old are you?’_

_‘Twenty-three.’_

_‘You’re not far behind Winchester.’ And Dean laughs_

Cas tells him about how he was born here in Pontiac, Illinois. His parents, though, were not religious, named him after an Angel. He is an only child and because of that was spoiled from a very young age.

Though he says, sardonically “My parents replaced love with money.”

“If it helps,” Dean says “I had neither.”

“It doesn’t. It makes me feel guilty.”

“That’s not your guilt to feel Cas.” He tells him, because he knows the one who should feel guilty is dead. And there is no point in crying over the past.

There’s a beat of silence when none speaks. Then Dean says, “I have a brother.” This piques Cas’ curiosity.

“Is he the one you were talking to earlier?”

“Were you eavesdropping on me?” Dean asks amused and Cas honest to goodness splutters.

“No!” then covering up he says “I was in fact sleeping and your voices woke me up.”

“Whatever you say.” Dean grins. “As I was saying, my brother, Sam—whom you heard before—we’re all we have now. And I guess the dearth of affection we got from our parents, we fulfilled by ourselves.”

“I often wished I had siblings.” Cas tells him in reply and Dean hums.

 “I had a friend, Anna, she was the closest to a sibling I ever had. She moved to Canada a few years ago; we talk once or twice a month.”

A surprising yawn escapes Dean’s lips.

“Are you falling asleep on me Dean?” Cas’ voice wavers with mirth, and Dean tries to fight off the feeling.

“It’s the meds, man.” He evades with a groan.

“Of course.” Cas says, his voice palpable and Dean wishes he could move just so he could chuck a pillow at him.

“Goodnight Dean.” Cas tells him, and Dean sighs.

“Goodnight Cas.”

 

The rest of the week passes in a steady routine. The two wake up at different times, usually, when a nurse comes to check their condition. A nurse—Lauren—is assigned to Dean, who assists him with his meals and his bathroom business. It makes Dean feel helpless, because he’s usually the one on the other end but he can’t do anything about it, so he lets her.

After their examination Cas and him, usually spend the day talking about their lives. Cas’ nurse helps him sit up in the evening for an hour to help drain the fluid in his lungs.

During the time Cas is sedated or sleeping Dean either listens to audiobooks on his phone—recommended by Cas—or calls Sam. The nurse helped setup his phone so at night, the two brother talks about Sam’s week or Dean tells him about Cas and the stories he tells.

One day in the midst of Cas and Dean’s conversation he suddenly asks,

“What do you look like Cas?” then to mask his embarrassment he adds quickly, “I haven’t seen your face cause I’m always lying down.”

“I…” Cas starts, “I have dark brown hair, short—though they’re a bit long right now since I haven’t gotten a haircut in a while—and my eyes are blue. I’m tall… And I don’t know. I feel like I’m on a dating site.”

It earns a laugh from Dean who says, “Dating sites require pictures Cas. This is more like phone-sex with a stranger.”

It’s Cas’ turn to laugh, “I have to say I’ve done neither.”

“You’ve missed out on life man.” Dean grins, but he hears Cas’ laugh die and him say, “I really have.”

A few minutes later Cas speaks, “What do you look like Dean?”

“What goes around, comes back around I guess” Dean says thinking. “I’ve got brown hair, a bit on the blondish side, and green eyes—”

“—green like the leaves?” Cas interrupts.

“Uh, green like; I don’t know, the forest? Emerald? You get the memo right?”

“I do.”

“Well yeah and I’m six feet tall, have freckles. God this does sound like a dating site.”

“You mean phone-sex with a stranger.” Cas says dryly and Dean grins.

“I don’t feel like you’re a stranger anymore.” He says absently, before realizing what it means.

There’s a dead-beat silence before Cas says, “I don’t think you’re a stranger either, Dean.”

And Dean smiles they fall into a comfortable silence.

 

It’s three weeks later when he wakes up his body feeling better than he did all week. The nurse comes to check on him as part of her routine, helps with his breakfast, a disgusting smoothie.

Upon his request, when she leave she raises his bed a little higher, enough that he can see a mop of dark hair where Castiel sleeps.

He’s finished with his reading around midday with Cas surprisingly still asleep. Dean tries not to worry, but as the clock ticks, his nerves get the best of him. He wants to call a nurse or someone to check up on him.

To his relief he hears Cas’ voice a couple of minutes later, much more gravely than usual from disuse.

 “Morning.” Dean finds himself grinning.

Cas slightly raises his head towards his voice, “Good morning, Dean.”

“It’s about time you woke up, sleeping beauty.”

“We stayed up pretty late last night.” He amends, thoughtfully.

Dean smiles remembering Cas’ take on Western Movies and then laughs to himself recalling how Cas’ imitated the characters in a southern accent. Dean would be lying if he said it didn’t make him flustered.

“Why are you laughing?” Cas asks him, quizzical. “Is my hair a mess? I’ve been told I’ve got a serious case of bedhead.”

“Nah, your hair’s fine. I just remembered your awful impression of cowboys.”

“I do a great cowboy impression.” Cas argues, and then suddenly his voice goes deeper. “ _Aloha cowboy_.” This causes them both to end up laughing hard.

“Ow, ow, ow.” Dean groans, still half laughing and half in pain from laughing.

The laughs die down after a while, but his smiles remain. It goes like that for the rest of the afternoon until its five and Cas’ nurse comes in to help him sit up.

His hair is a mess on his head and Dean tries not to stare at his face too long but Cas is nothing like what he imagined from his description.

Sharp cheekbones and big eyes is what Dean notices at first, and it makes his breath hitch because despite the ugly hospital gown, Cas is _pretty hot_.

 

Before Dean has a chance to embarrass himself, his eyes land on the window next to Cas’ bed. He can’t see much more than the light coming from outside.

“Say Cas, what’d you see from your window?”

Cas frowns momentarily before turning right and observing. “The sun is out today.” He says. “The weather’s lovely.”

“Aw man, I sure could use a drive right now.” Dean says, picking at his blanket.

He sighs, thinking about his car which is probably catching dirt if someone hasn’t broken the windows already or scratched the paint. Just for her sake Dean wishes an officer might’ve taken her to the station.

“Ah, Baby.” He grumbles more to himself, but it’s enough to grab his friend’s attention.

“What?” Cas asks him. He’s toying with his blanket, scrunching it up before releasing it, leaving wrinkles. Dean looks up at Cas’ quizzical expression. His head tilted like a bird and eyes furrowed.

“Nothing man, just I’m sick of just lying here.”

“Oh,” Cas says softly which makes an unpleasant churn in Dean’s stomach, because Cas has been here on and off for six months, and the guy’s been trying to cheer Dean’s sorry ass for this whole week.

“Aw not like that, Cas. The only positive thing about this crammed up place is you.” He says, but feels his ears heat up at the admission.

“The feeling’s mutual.” Cas tells him, but there’s fondness in his voice.

For a while Dean thinks how if the situation was different, if Cas and him would’ve met differently they could very well be going on dates. That is, if Dean’s not assuming the reciprocation on Cas’ behalf.

“Tell me how the world looks, Cas.” Dean says and Cas takes a moment to breathe before he tells Dean of the outside world from his place.

He tells him how the couples walk hand in hand, walking on the pavement. How the children are jumping with joy as they run towards the park. He tells him how the big trees in front of the building are starting to blossom with flowers in shades of yellow, pink and red.

How the roads are filled with cars, with people hurrying to go home to their family.

And Dean listens. Listens to the deep rumble of Cas’ voice as he tells him all of those things. Listens how, when Cas talks about the world, it seems more beautiful and makes him want to see all those little things by himself. In the life, Dean lives one does not get the chance to focus on these sorts of things. There's blood, gore, monsters and the uncertainty if one will survive the next hunt or not. 

 

It’s the end of another week and the two had spent it all with Cas’ observation of the world. Though as Dean got better, Cas’ condition starts to worsen. The night before Cas wouldn’t stop coughing and when the nurse gave Cas’ pills for the cough and sleep Dean overheard them talking how his lungs were having more trouble keeping up.

The next day, passes in silence as Cas sleeps for most of the time. Dean listens to some songs on his phone but stops midway, because his heart just feels wretched.

“Dean?” he hears Cas’ voice, hoarse and throaty and winces at the sound.

“Yeah Cas.”

“I want you to know that despite the fact the circumstances we met in here haven’t been the best, the time I spent here with you has been one of the best spent in a long time.”

“Cas.” Dean says, because he knows what this and he doesn’t like it.

“Thank you, Dean.” And Dean swallows, the lump in his throat. He knows he should say something—anything— but the words won’t come to him and what he wants to say cannot be expressed in words.

He wants to get up, to hug him—kiss him—damn it anything but he knows he can’t because the circumstances aren’t right and Dean’s stuck in his bed and despite wanting to he can’t do anything.

“You’re welcome, Cas.” He finally says.

That night when Dean does manage to fall asleep at some absurd hour, he’s suddenly woken up by a coughing fit and his skin pales. He tries to call the nurse as quick as he can but by the time they arrive, the coughing has died down and so has the breathing.

The lump in Dean’s throat won’t go away. By the time the rest of the staff comes to wash the body Dean’s lying wide awake with his eyes dry and stinging.

When everyone’s out of the room, Dean finally lets out a sob and allows the tears to stream down. He cries until he falls asleep.

It’s a week after Cas’ death that Dean asks the nurse of he could be shifted to the opposite bed. He’s able to move his legs and arm’s now and every day for an hour the nurse comes over for his physiotherapy.

The nurse agrees and that day Dean finds himself sitting on Cas’ bed. He looks towards the window, eager to see the wonders Cas used to describe him but is met with nothing but a rugged red brick wall outside.

Confused he turns to the nurse.

“Uh, Kate when was this wall built?”

Kate scribbles something on her pad before answering, “This building was here before the hospital was built.”

“That can’t be right.” Dean says and the nurse looks perplexed, so Dean continues. “Cas used to tell me about the view from here.”

The nurse gives him a sad smile, “Mr. Winchester, Mr. Novak was blind.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a story I remember reading in grade three. It was really sad and it made me cry a lot then.  
> I hope you all like it. Feedback is always welcomed!
> 
> P.S sorry if there are any grammatical errors, I didn't proofread.  
> also forgive me if there's any mistake in the whole medical care stuff, I just used what i found on the internet.


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